Countrylife

This week, I took my boys to a country show. It's not really like there are people jiggling their bottoms on stage to entertain fed-up farmers. It's more like a show of well-shined tractors, much to a lot of disappointments of children who are not allowed to pretend-drive them. There were also competitions for well-groomed sheep, cows, and horses. And maybe chickens and ducks as well, who knows. Anyway, it was excruciatingly muddy. It was knee-deep and everytime we try to move to another stall to see what's on display, it was like heaving logs attached to our legs. It was a good job that I didn't bother to bring Lewis' buggy. I could see other parents who had to shove their babies down their pockets just so they could pull their prams from jealous latches of the mud. I pity their all-terrain-travel-systems.

Until now, I'm still wondering why I ever went there. I scanned the crowd and I could only see people in tweeds, berrets and jodhpurs. Am I the only one that represents 5% of the Asian population here? Maybe they're all in China, hired by the government to fill up empty stadiums. But why was I there in the first place? I'm not a farmer, not interested in buying a tractor, and most importantly, I don't get on with mud! But when I saw the faces of my boys all caked in mud, which could be horses' muck for all I knew, laughing, trodding along like it was the best thing ever to have happened in their lives, I felt contented. My mother-in-law was so surprised how relaxed I was about it considering that last year, I threw away Zak's new pair of shoes after he played at a muddy football pitch.

Today, I took them again to a Woodlands Festival where people living alternative lifestyles creating stuff out of renewable resources where displaying and demonstrating their crafts. Zak joined in and made a design of fish out of willow. He also tried lathe, a traditional woodcrafting tool. He was shy at first but it made him speak to a lot of matted-haired people. Honestly, I felt like I was out of their league. These people care for the environment and lived their life according to what nature offered in a renewable sort of way, if that's how you incongrously put it. Then I thought of how much plastic packaging I had in my fridge and it was like I was their enemy. I took my boys there to see the GreenMan, the mythical woodland creature, and listen to his music and stories. Instead I felt like an invader of the only group of people who would survive the Apocalypse.

I realise that I'm a bit insecure about my looks [read: Asian] mainly because these activities we go to are country-based. In this part of England, the closest you can get to ethnic minority are the redheads (this is according to Judith O'Reilly). Sometimes, I get a good laugh when a local tries to speak V-ER-Y SL-OW-L-Y to me, enunciating every sound, forming the lips according to the vowels, just so I could follow what she's on about. When I'm in the mood for it, I would say, 'Ah no wot ye on abaaht'. (I know what you're on about.) I just love the way the English get embarassed!